Sunday, February 4, 2018

The Tunguska Non-event

by Todd Mercer

When on fire
the present’s paramount.
There may have been
a meteor to blame, a comet
crashed into the far taiga,
or an errant transatlantic
burst of current
from Nikola Tesla’s lab.
It wasn’t on my mind
the moment
I exploded into flames.
I mouthed a shorthand
stripped-down prayer,
uninformed of the square miles
of matchstick evergreens flattened,
croaked it out
without a thought to
creator or crater-maker:
“Water!” I cried
in my native language,
“Water!” again,
as if anyone could hear.
I wasn’t slightly curious.
about the comet,
gas plume, God’s hand,
the stray wireless transmission,
antimatter, whatever the cause.
Combustion
is strictly present tense.

Welcome

Works of up to 24 lines sounds about right. One submission per month sounds about right, too. Speaking of the calendar, please submit seasonal work: in season.

Longer works of eco-poetry will also be considered, especially of witness, testimony and protest.

Work that focuses on the image in nature as it exists is greatly preferred over the writer’s judgments of the image. Except in connection with farming and working the land, Plum Tree is little interested in poems that focus on human activity or human nature.

The editor expects that submissions will adhere to all guidelines. This includes the fine print, linked hereand separately below.

To submit, send one to three works in the body of an email to plumtreetavern (at) gmail (dot) com